Uncharted: Bad Vacation
by kaboomduck
Summary: Sully and Nate goes on a wild mis-adventure after a bad turn of fishing on Sully's seaplane in the Caribbean. What will happen to them? Takes place before Drake's Fortune. Pirates, golden treasures, cigars and witty remarks guaranteed to be there. XD
1. Chapter 1

The crate opened with a sickening 'crack', and the damp moss-covered wood lifted up from the light crank of the rusty crowbar.

Nathan Drake, treasure hunter and occasional world-saver, turned away from the appalling look of the crate's content and stepped away from the box dizzily. A decaying skeleton, badly mummified, and a skeleton of what seemed to be a dog lied inside the crate. The skeleton's head was facing him, and it seemed to have smiled at Drake for a moment's notice.

"Hi there, thanks for letting the smell out," it seemed to want to say.

It was just three days ago when the crate was found afloat in the waters where Nate and Sully were fishing. The sea-plane, Sully's good old working plane, floated on the sea, acting as a platform for the two to fish. It was easy to spot the crate, considering the point that Sully was sitting high on top of the roof with a long fishing rod dangling over the edge into the water.

"Grab the crate, Nate! There might be treasure inside!" Sully shouted from the top, quickly standing up in clear anticipation of the possibility of treasure washing up on his plane. The Caribbean Sea didn't really give the two any good balance with all the small waves rippling through the plane, rocking it constantly as if it was a seasickness simulator.

Nathan Drake grabbed hold of the post as he balanced himself carefully on the pontoon, throwing back the fishing rod into the cabin behind him. "Hurry up, Nate, or it's gonna drift away!" Sully shouted again, now standing right above Drake on the wings of the plane.

"Alright! Alright! Hold your horses!" Nate yelled back, swaying unstably on the platform, his face a mixture of green seasickness and annoyance. He leaned out from the side of the plane, his one hand holding the post and the other reaching out for the crate.

"Got it!"

Nate shouted in glee when his hand caught on a good grip on the crate's rough edges. Sully climbed back into the cabin as Nate pulled in the wet crate with a heaving effort from his worn out physique. "Damn it, Sully, if I knew that I'd come out all the way to the Caribbean just to get a sun-tan and be your fishing line..." Sully just laughed. His mind was too happy with images of treasure piling up in his memory drive.

It has been two hours since the two had fished out in the open sea, and frankly, they weren't getting any fish.

"Aw, brighten up, kid. We might be onto something here!" Sully said, the sound of excitement and thrill building up fast in his voice as he walked over with a crowbar in hand. Victor Sullivan, white-haired, grinning in a Hawaiian shirt and a cigar in his mouth, looked ten years younger as he excitingly plunged the crowbar into the crate's lid and cranked it open without any effort.

The wooden lid creaked and screamed out a long squeak as its nails were pried apart from the box. Soon enough, a legion of months-long stench wafted out into the cabin and marched across every available surface to spread its rotten smell. The lid creaked again as if it was laughing in delight.

Nate was the first to groan in disgust and cover his mouth while Sully reacted a little less fast. Soon enough though, the man did the same, but he leaned over the crate's content and peered in with thoughtful eyes instead of turning away.

"Sully, are you kidding me? Step away from that thing!" Nate mumbled from behind his hand, still appalled by the skeleton and stench. The rot was apparent, and the fishing trip was just about like that – rotten.

Sully was one to call him up for a good day of fishing after a weeks' worth of work just three days ago. He called it a 'holiday' between pals; free of people, bars, beer and land. Just them and Mother Nature – them and the sea.

Sully finally stepped away and coughed loudly.

"Just us and Mother Nature, alright."

He waved his hand around the air, unsuccessfully trying to get the stench out of the cabin. "Now that's the work of mother-goddamn-nature," Sully said. "Come on, Nate, we gotta get this thing off of my plane before it stinks up the whole cabin!"

Sully pushed the crate with all his might, pushing it towards the door where he planned to drop it back out into the sea. It didn't even edge ten inches before Nate stepped in and pushed it back into the cabin, surprising Sully as a drop of stinking water splashed onto his shirt from the box.

"Hold on a second, Sully!" Nate said, eyes scanning through the crate's contents as if there was nothing decaying in there.

The plane suddenly rocked violently from the unexpected wave washing under it with one big motion. Both the men were flung effortlessly to the floor, and the crate quickly slid to the side and tipped itself on the edge of the door, almost falling if it weren't for Nate, who had gotten up just as soon as he fell to grab hold of it again. Another wave hit the plane's bottom and sent the whole thing swaying to its side again. The crate stubbornly tried to fall over, but Nate kept still, struggling to pull the thing back in. Sully finally got up and managed to gain balance by leaning his hands on the cabin walls and ceiling.

"Nate, let go of that box already!" he shouted.

"You're the one who wanted it in the first place! Argh!" Nate yelled as he arched his back, pulling back the crate that was clearly falling over. Nate was only so strong after all, fighting against the teetering platform and opposing gravity. A loud thunder cracked from outside, and the plane rocked back the opposite way with the wave, sending a splash of seawater into the cabin and onto the crate. Nate was almost crushed by the huge box sliding back, but he reflexively moved aside in time. Sully caught him before he fell to his butt.

"Damnit," Sully cussed, looking out of the door. "A storm's coming. Let the corpse rest in peace, kid. We're outta here," he said.

Nate responded by a lightning-quick action; he bolted forward despite the unstable platform, leaned into the box (while holding his breath), grabbed something from inside it, and pulled himself away. The crate lurched forward again as the plane tipped sideways, and it immediately slid out of the cabin through the door and into the water with a loud 'splash'. The pieces of the corpse, green and oozing, were left scattered on the cabin floor thanks to the waves of water splashing into the crate and cabin not a minute before.

"Buckle up, Nate, it's gonna be one hell of a ride!" Sully said, putting on his own seatbelt on the pilot's seat. Nate followed suit, and soon, the seaplane darted out of the waters of the Caribbean and into the sky, flying out of the storm just in time before it really struck home with full intensity.

...

Back on shore somewhere in the coast of some Caribbean island, Sully's seaplane was tied safely to the docks and secured from the turbulent waves that kept crashing onto the shores. The woman on the side of the plane didn't seem as happy and smiling as she was before, thanks to the rain falling down on her face like rolling tears.

In the nearby bar further inland, Sully and Nate sat cold but dry on the stools by the counter, trying to keep warm with the not-so-hot coffee served by the locals.

"I really wish we were back in Colorado now. At least I have good coffee there." Nate grumbled, swirling his cup as if it could make the drink any better.

"Hey, I didn't bring us here to drink in a bar. I checked the weather channel; it was supposed to be sunny all week long!" Sully said in defense. "Must be one of those freak-hurricanes or storms from the ocean. Anyways, what have you got there?" He pointed at Nate's pocket, referring to the item he pulled out of the crate before.

"Oh, this?" Nate took out a medium-sized golden bracelet covered in damp moss and hard dirt sticking on it. He wiped the thing slowly with an equally damp napkin from the bar. The bracelet gradually started to show its shine.

"Wow, kid. That thing might make it all almost worth it!" Sully said in utter joyful surprise.

"What does that have to mean?" Nate asked, still cleaning the bracelet, now scraping off the dirt with his pocket knife.

"Kid, that box o' corpses filled up my whole cabin with rotten flesh and smell. It's gonna take me weeks to clean that up!" Sully replied.

Nate laughed, and kept his knife back into his pocket. The bracelet now shined brightly in the dim lighting, clearly showing its smooth golden surface. The bartender walked in, and Nate hurriedly placed the bracelet in his pocket again.

"Coffee?" the bartender asked in his native dialect. Both men shook their head.

"You call this coffee? I wonder what your water tastes like." Sully complained. The bartender didn't seem to really understand, and went away again.

Nate took out the bracelet and gave it to Sully.

"I hope he didn't see this," Nate whispered.

"Nah," Sully said, examining the thing carefully with the strict precision of his pair of well-trained and experienced eyes. "Gold alright," he nodded. "But there's nothing to it! I mean, look at it, Nate," he handed the bracelet to Drake. "It has nothing written or carved on it. Just a plain gold bracelet. Did you say the corpse was wearing it?"

"Which corpse?" Nate gleefully asked.

"Whaddaya mean which corpse?" Sully asked back, a little annoyed by the question. He hated waiting for answers when it came to gold and treasures.

"Sully, I found the bracelet on the dog, not the man. The dog, Sully!" Nate said, his voice sounding a little amused.

"Well, that's a little...weird." Sully looked at his coffee, contemplated on drinking it, and firmly decided not to.

The bartender came again, with a transparent bottle in his hand now, and walked towards the two. He placed two small glasses in front of them and poured each of them the drink from the mysterious bottle.

"What's this?" Sully asked. The bartender smiled, hugged himself and put his lips together.

"Brrrrrrr..." he said, implying them that it was cold outside. Then he pointed at the drink. The thunder struck again, and they were reminded of the storm that was happening outside. They weren't going anywhere with that kind of weather. Sully had even heard once that a palm tree can be uprooted in that kind of rain.

"Ah, what the hell," Nate shrugged.

"Hold on a second, Nate -" Sully failed to stop his friend as Nate gulped down the drink in one go. "Kid?"

One second later, Nate fell limp on the counter and exhaled loudly in utter shock from the drink.

"Damnit, Nate, I shoulda warned you," Sully said to himself. He eyed the drink, and took it in himself, and then he slammed the glass down hard and shook his head. "Whoa! What the hell did they put in this thing?" The bartender asked him if he wanted another round. Sully grinned and nodded.

After another drink, he shook Nate's shoulder, looking for any signs of life. "You never were the drinking type, eh. This thing could kickstart a corpse's heart." he laughed out loud.

The rain kept pounding on the small bar, and the wind was howling much louder than before. It wasn't till an hour later when Nate woke up from his slumber, and found Sully to be dead asleep beside him, his cigar extinguished on the table ashtray, and the two glasses missing. Nate sat upright, held his head in slight pain, and moved his hand to his pocket…then to the other one. And he stopped breathing for a second.

"Shit!"

Sully jumped up in surprise from the sudden scream from Drake, almost falling off the stool, though he didn't, thanks to similar experiences before.

"What the hell, Nate?" he asked.

"The bracelet. The bracelet, Sully, where is it?"


	2. Chapter 2

"How am I supposed to know?" Sully replied.

The golden bracelet was gone, taken, by someone when the two had passed out after drinking. Sully stood up and followed Nate around, who was frantically searching the bar for any signs of the bracelet. He took one look at the door and realized that he wasn't hearing anymore thunderclaps, rain or wind. The storm had subsided.

"Some guy must have stolen it out of my pocket," Nate said, sounding more angry than worried about the situation. He kept pacing back and forth, and then decided. "Come on, Sully, we gotta go find this thing before the thief gets too far." Sully didn't budge, choosing look away instead.

"I don't know, kid. I've never been around these islands to know the locals that well," he said.

"We don't need to know that. How hard could it be to catch a thief?" Nate started to get suspicious, noticing Sully's reluctance to go or look at him. Sully suddenly raised his hands, palms out, and said,

"I say we dump the search and get the hell out of this island before anything happens." He quickly walked to the door, but was held back by Nate's grip on his arms.

"What do you mean?" Nate retorted, feeling ever more confused and angry. "I thought you were in on this bracelet thing?" Just when the vacation seemed to take a good turn with the discovery of the bracelet, it had to be stolen, and Sully had to refuse to cooperate. Nate didn't like the feel of this trip, not by a long chance. Sully kept his distance, but gave his reasons.

"I said that I've never been to this place, but that doesn't mean that I don't know who runs this part of the Caribbean," he said.

Nate looked at his friend with a sudden but fearful understanding.

"It's not the locals, is it?" Nate said, his words sounding more like a statement than an actual question. Sully didn't have to nod. They both knew things were going to turn bad.

"Forget about the treasure, let's – I can't believe you've brought us to an island infested by _pirates_!" Nate blurted out as he headed for the door. It was one thing having him on a fun vacation without the fun, but it was another when Nate had to get mixed up with one of Sully's less well-liked acquaintances. If pirates really did run this part of nowhere, then Nate and Sully were definitely trespassing, especially if the bracelet had something to do with it.

Sully also went for the door.

"Hey, I don't know those guys, alright? I just heard about them from someone–"

"Then why come here?" Nate kept his tone, cutting off Sully. He did not want to hear much, just to get out of the place. Both of them stopped a few meters from the door. Light was shining through under it.

"That someone also told me that the fishing was nice."

"Sully..." Nate grinded his teeth and took a deep breath. Sometimes, he couldn't understand the man's take on living.

"Now that someone owes me my ten dollars for false information!"

"Sully, I – "

The door slammed opened before Nate could even finish his sentence, sending the old wooden door against the wall with a loud 'crash'.

The two men backed away as soon as they saw what came through it – militia men, or at least they looked like them. But they were pirates, heavily armed pirates, all five of them carrying guns, knives and grenades or whatever-else they were hiding under their shirt. They walked into the bar with heavy steps and a grim determination, an air of smug anticipation surrounding them like thunderclouds that hung around on top of grumpy cartoon figures. The middle one stood forward from between his bodyguards, it seemed, as his presence immediately stood him out as their leader.

The man was lean, a little taller than Nate was, and he had a tribal tattoo stuck across both his cheeks as if it was some permanent war paint he wore. He spoke in fluent English.

"You stole the bracelet?" The pirate asked.

Nate didn't answer, unwilling to give the pirate any reason to draw out his gun or suspect them of lying. Staying quite seemed like a good reason, giving just enough time to think for a way out. He kept staring at the waiting pirate. Neither one spoke for a full two seconds, until the pirate rested his hand on the gun in his belt holster, immediately causing Sully to react by talking. Nate didn't like that one bit. The pirates were clearly used to baiting people into talking with intimidation.

But Sully interrupted by suddenly speaking.

"More like we 'found' it inside a crate full of rotten corpses." he said.

The pirate turned his head to Sully and grinned.

"So you found it." The pirate didn't sound annoyed, surprisingly so. Instead, he walked past the two men, sat down on the stool by the counter and turned to face them. Nate didn't turn back to look at him. Whatever it is the pirate wanted, Nate did not want to make eye contact; talking too much, or giving too much information and closeness was the best way to get killed, in his experience. Stall the conversation as long as possible, keep things steady, and talk you way out, was his profile then. If all else fails…Nate kept his stance, looking at the other four men, thinking of a way out if things get messy.

"Where is it?" the pirate asked.

Nate lifted an eyebrow, and asked,

"Why do you want it?" Nate started walking around the room, still not wanting to look at the pirate straight in the eye. He wanted to know more about this bracelet, and the pirate will give it to him…

"It is not a matter of me wanting it as much as you handing it over to me."

…or not.

Just as soon as Nate finished asking, the pirate snapped on the words like a shark on a wandering seal. Nate turned to the pirate and tried not to show his worry on his face. This one did not like talking, and wanted answers…immediately. Nate thought that he'd try his luck and went on with walking about the room.

"I don't suppose you'll offer me something in exchange for the bracelet?" Nate asked, more carefully with his tone this time.

The pirate started to tap his fingers rhythmically on the wooden bar. Sully took a step back away from the conversational area.

_Tap, tap. _

"Where is the bracelet?" The pirate asked again.

"I thought that you'd wanted it," Nate continued.

"Oh, really?" The pirate stopped smiling. Sully saw that and looked at Nate worriedly. Nate can feel that his luck wasn't on his side that day. He tried not fumble with his footsteps, and decided to stop walking.

_Tap, tap. Tap._

Nate couldn't see a way out of the four guards at the door. Each one held weapons that could be drawn and used as soon as Nate moved suspiciously. He finally turned around and looked at the pirate, already staring at him impatiently.

"I don't suppose that we can work this out?" Nate doubtfully asked, his voice raising a pitch higher than before. "…What is the bracelet worth to you?"

_Tap, tap, tap, tap._

The pirate leaned back and sneered. "Bargaining with pirates isn't the way to go for a wandering tourist, Mr.-"

"Drake."

"Mr. Drake."

_Tap._

"What is your price?" Nate kept on pushing.

"The bracelet."

_T-tap_. The pirate stared in contempt. Only at that moment that Nate realized that the pirate was in a hurry for the bracelet…but why? If he thought that Nate had the bracelet, there wouldn't be…unless…

"We're not going to give it to you until-"

The four men readied their weapons, and Nate heard the familiar cocking of handguns and automatic rifles.

The leader of the pirates held up his palm and motioned his men to hold, never letting his eyes off Nate. He seemed to call his bluff, given; it wasn't much of a bluff in the first place.

"We don't have it." Nate finally said.

…

What happened then was a series of long stares at every person in the room by everyone, anticipating the next move by either of their enemies while they breathed in and out in perpetual stillness. Nate was hoping to avoid this conversation when he started it in the first place, knowing well that the possibilities of escaping with a bluff are three to none. Now that he admitted to losing the object, he could just pray to heck that the pirates would believe him.

The pirate leader sneered at Nate and slammed the counter with his fist.

"**Find the boy!**" he screamed, and the four pirates stormed out of the bar and went searching in different directions.

Nate and Sully stepped back and breathed out in relief; Nate was right – the pirate was thinking about something else. The leader stood up and walked fast over to Nate, face scrunched in an expression of frustration. He pulled out a knife and touched Nate's chin with its sharp tip.

"You just wasted my precious time, Mr. Drake. I don't have to tell you that you are in a very unfortunate position now, do I?" the pirate kept sneering, his tattoo equally vicious in intimidating his victims, being the only thing, glistening black in sweat, that Nate can see.

Then a click resounded from behind the pirate. Nate saw his eyes widen and he grinned.

"I don't suppose that this is yours, is it?" Sully asked whilst pushing the barrel of the pirate's own handgun on his back. The pirate dropped the knife and stepped aside. "It's a really bad idea to leave yourself alone with two of us, you know."

Nate picked up the knife, and right there and then, the lights went out for the pirate as Sully knocked him out with the butt of the gun.

"It's not our fault that you came here for the bracelet first," Nate casually spoke to the unconscious man.

Without fail, the two soon quickly bolted for the door, ran straight to the docks and untied the seaplane. Just then inside the cockpit, Nate spotted a group of pirates heading for their direction.

"Anytime now, Sully." he said.

"Hold on tight, kid, we're outta here!"

The engine whirred, and soon enough, the two were in the air bound for home, the seaplane making way long before the pirates could even open fire on them.

"Whew, that was a close one," Sully said after they were high up in the air, away from the island.

"Let's not do that again," Nate sighed with a slight laugh in his voice. The sky looked blue and clear ahead of them. The storm was clearly gone for good. They were laughing for a while at their luck when a sound came from behind the cockpit.

"What is that?" Nate suddenly asked.

"What?"

"That sound, what's that?" Nate turned around and unbuckled his seatbelt. This time, a loud 'thump' came from inside the cabin from the pile of things behind it.

"What is that?" Sully repeated the question, turning his head to look in curiosity. The plane's engine droned softly as Nate walked over to the cabin, pulling out his knife as he did.

He pulled away a huge box of fishing supplies and dropped the whole pile on the floor of the cabin. But just as soon as he did, he revealed a young local boy, probably about the age of 14 or 15, crouching there with both his arms around him as if he was safeguarding something…something like the bracelet.

The golden glint of the artifact was enough to tell Nate that this was the boy the pirates were looking for.

"Well, hello there-_oof_," Nate squirmed as the boy dashed forward and elbowed Nate in the gut before he made way to the door. The boy picked up a parachute and proceeded to try and open the door.

"Nate, what the hell is..." Sully walked into the cabin. "What the?" he said, astounded. Then he went ahead and grabbed the kid by the back of the collar and picked him up. Granted, the boy was small, almost skinny, and short at about four and a half feet tall.

"Now who could you little rascal be?" Sully asked, leaning his head forward to stare at the boy. He was fairly dark, clearly tanned, with short ruffled black hair and eyes.

Nate moved towards the two, his hand stuck to his aching gut.

"The plane, Sully?" he asked.

"Relax, it's on auto-pilot."

"This old thing has auto-pilot on it? Cool."

Nate finally let go of his gut and reached his hand out, palms open, to the boy.

"The bracelet, kid," Sully said.

The boy took out the bracelet and dropped it on Nate's palm. Then Sully put him down and pointed strictly at him. "Stay." And the boy did.

Hoping for a clean escape, what both of the men got now were a handful of unwanted luggage – a golden bracelet on one hand, an unknown boy in the other, and a horde of angry pirates chasing their tails.

Nate worriedly and tiredly sighed again.

"Let's _seriously_ not do this again."


End file.
